


Searching For His Presense

by JessicaLane



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abandonment, Brad Pitt - Freeform, Breakfast, Drama, Drama & Romance, Established Relationship, F/M, Fainting, Family Drama, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Humor, Jennifer Anniston - Freeform, Loneliness, M/M, Original Character(s), Original Character-centric, Other, Sandwhich Stealing, Self Confidence Issues, Separation Anxiety, angelina jolie - Freeform, overdramatic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:07:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22427569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessicaLane/pseuds/JessicaLane
Summary: I longed for him. In the darkest times, I drew near to him. In the light, he was always within reach. Now, he is missing from my life. I yearn for him. I cry out his name in anguish, but I do not get a response. His absence is suffocating. Will he return? Or am I to whither to nothing as I faithfully wait for him?
Relationships: Original Character(s)/Original Character(s), Original Character(s)/Original Male Character(s)
Kudos: 2





	Searching For His Presense

**Author's Note:**

> Hello World!  
> My name is Jessica! I am SUPER PUMPED to meet all of you. This is my first ever work, and I would REALLY appreciate some constructive criticism or anything you are willing to give me! My only rule is to remember to be respectful! Thank you so much for choosing to read this! I hope you enjoy!

Searching for His Presence

The light creeps through my curtains, casting shadows on my wall. His side of the bed feels cold as I run my fingers down the sheets. I wonder how long he had been gone. Just in the moments that I had laid there, it felt like ten thousand eternities.  
I know that I am not always an easy person to live with. I know that I can be unbearable on my worst days. Yet, I never thought he would leave me. He promised me that he never would. I made him give me a pinky promise. He even went so far as to cross his heart. But why was I surprised? They always leave.  
The ticking of the clock in the hallway seemed to be my only companion as I just laid in my bed. Is it possible that I am still dreaming? That this lonely existence is simply a ruse created by my own sick, twisted psyche? Or maybe he had, finally, grown weary of my ways.  
Perhaps, it is because of my neediness, my pathological need to always be right, or maybe even my looks. I have been letting myself go lately. My stomach does kind of look bloated at this angle and my hair, surely, looked like a bird’s nest. The two parts of me always fed my insecurity. Yet, he always told me that he loved my unruly locks and would say that my tummy was cute.  
“Liiiiiaaaaaaaaarrrrrrr”, I hissed. I was hurt, angry, and betrayed – what an unappealing cocktail of feelings.  
He was just like all the others. Those that would take what they wanted from me and then leave. Just like my sister, the tramp. And my mother, that old goat. Just like all of them. They just took. And took. And took.  
I remember how my sister stole my sandwich, once. Maybe that wasn’t a good example. But it still hurt my feelings! I was starving that day! Hunger clawed the insides of my abdomen with abandon. Yet, when I investigated the refrigerator, it was gone. My turkey sandwich with cheese and mustard, that was only on the side that did not have cheese because cheese touching mustard is gross, had left no tracks, no clues to tell me where it had gone.  
Just like my lost love, it had gone without a trace. I can still remember the anguish that tore through my bosom at that moment. The utter betrayal that racked my tender heart. And mother just stood there and took the sandwich stealer’s side!  
“Now, sweetheart,” she had said, “you used her lunchbox, today. Your sister just thought I had packed her lunch for her. It was a complete misunderstanding.”  
I will never forget how she swept my feelings aside. There was always a misunderstanding. I was always just overreacting. And I DO NOT overreact!  
But, then again, my sister did give me money to buy another, and mom did make her apologize. And now that I think about it, I could have used my own lunch box instead of hers, but I did not want to have to reach for it in the cupboard. But that wasn’t the point!  
Forcing myself up out of the bed, I began to search the house for my lost lover. Perhaps he was just somewhere else in the house. Stumbling, I attempted to rush out of the room, almost tripping on the blankets that had fallen to the floor in my haste. He was not in the bathroom, the kitchen, or even in the living room.  
That is when I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, he was gone. Forever.  
I longed for him. In the darkest times, I drew near to him. In the light, he was always within reach. Now, he is missing from my life. I yearn for him. I cry out his name in anguish, but I do not get a response. His absence is suffocating. Will he return? Or am I to whither to nothing as I faithfully wait for him?  
This must have been how Jennifer Anniston felt when Brad left her for Angelina!  
“Oh God,” I cried out in horror, “I don’t want to be Jennifer!”  
I banged my hands down upon the living room floor. My lover had most definitely left me for another. And now, they will go off and be happy and have children. But then, again, Jennifer did have an overall highly successful career. And Angelina and Brad did eventually split. But that is not the point!  
“I WANT MY MOMMA”, I sobbed. There was no way that this could get worse.  
I've spoken to a God that I have not been on speaking terms with. It was then that my stomach decided to join me in my upset. My belly sounded like a whale that was attempting to attract itself a mate. And I knew that things have gotten much worse. I would require sustenance. And soon, if I wanted to survive. Would my mom make me a baked bean sandwich if I called her? Hm. It was worth a try.  
I scrambled to get up off the floor, seeing as it got very uncomfortable to sit on my knees for too long. I needed to find my cell phone. Running to my bedroom, I remembered that I had it in the bed with me before I fell asleep, last night. Before my man snuck off to live with his new beau in the Caribbean. A new wave of loneliness crashed into me. Looking around, I did not see my phone anywhere!  
My lover must have stolen it when he left! How dare he?! That was the only explanation. I always kept my beloved cell phone on my person. AT. ALL. TIMES. This was too much for one day.  
Feeling myself begin to descend, I made sure that my hand was to my temple and that my chest was poked out, enticingly. My knees bent and I began to fall, seemingly in slow motion. My eyes closed in exhaustion. I’ve always wanted to fall dramatically.  
It was as if the world began to move in its proper time again as my body made contact with the floor. And that was how I stayed, sprawled out amongst the sheets that I had left on the ground earlier.  
And that is how I died.  
Not really, but it felt that way. Amid my despair, I heard an odd sound outside my window. Choosing to ignore it, I decided to look back on my life. I thought of all of the good things and bad things. It was quite boring, actually. Did my life suck? Oh my God! How come nobody told me! Is this seriously how I am going to die? Holy crap! THIS is how I am going to die!  
Suddenly, in the distance, I heard the sound of a door opening. Was that the front door? Do I have an intruder? No matter, I no longer had anything left to live for. Maybe, I should just lay here and let myself be found and, surely, murdered by this butcherer.  
Mentally, I was preparing myself, as footsteps made their way down the hall, towards the bedroom. This is it. This is the true moment that everyone waits for in life. The moment where we look death in the face and know that this is where it is all over. The moment where our story finishes with the metaphorical “THE END”.  
The footsteps stopped at the bedroom door before I heard two sound knocks. This killer clearly sucked at their job. Maybe it was their first time? I hate to be critical, but the rest of my life was boring. Can’t my death be, at least, semi more exciting? Typical.  
“Dear Killer,” I called out to him, “I am honored that you have chosen me as your first kill. But could you please hurry it up! My heart can’t take this stress. And make it poetic, like a Shakespeare tragedy! Oh! Death, where is your sting!”  
The person behind the door seemed to pause. Perhaps, nobody has ever welcomed their killer before, and it has blindsided them. A small huff was heard, and the intruder began to fiddle with the doorknob. I closed my eyes. I did not want to see their face. The cold fingers of death began to slowly snake around my neck. Death, oddly, smelt like a breakfast burrito.  
“What are you doing?”, came a familiar voice.  
My eyes snapped open to see the love of my life standing over me. In his hands, was a paper bag and a cup that likely came from a fast food joint, up the road.  
“My love, you have returned! You didn’t steal my phone, or marry Angelina!”, I sobbed, jumping up to embrace him, “And you brought me food!”  
He looked at me, eyebrow raised, “I’ve been gone for literally ten minutes. You left your phone in bed last night, so I plugged it into the charger for you by your bed. I told you that I was going to get breakfast! Who is Angelina?!”  
Looking back over towards my bedside table, I noticed that, indeed, my phone was sitting on its charger. So, he did not leave me for another, he did not steal my phone, and I am not going to get murdered, yet. Maybe. Just maybe, I might have overreacted. But he doesn’t need to know that. I need a distraction.  
“Baby, thank you so much for getting us breakfast,” I cooed sweetly and pecking him on the cheek. Grabbing the paper bag, I attempted to scoot out of the room fast enough to stall any further conversation. I may be off the hook, yet!  
I’m so glad that I have my love.


End file.
